


Al and Scorp Sitting In A Tree

by Hayleythewriter



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Cursed Child - Thorne & Rowling
Genre: Albus Severus Potter is gay, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Harry Potter Next Generation, M/M, Not Canon Compliant, Pining, Slytherin Albus Severus Potter, Slytherin Scorpius Malfoy, Twisted and Fluffy Feelings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-15
Updated: 2017-08-11
Packaged: 2018-09-17 14:59:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 13,917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9330434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hayleythewriter/pseuds/Hayleythewriter
Summary: Follow Albus Potter as he journeys from first to fifth year. He makes an enemy who turns into a friend who turns into . . . something he really doesn't want to think about. There's crying, there's laughing, there's mutual pining. And maybe even a happy ending.(Alternately titled Fantastic Friends and Where to Snog Them)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Who's Canon? I don't know her.  
> And a disclaimer, I am not prejudice against Slytherins, Albus is just being problematic.

Albus had been dreaming about his first night at Hogwarts for years. Dad and Mum always told tales of their magical memories, and now that his older brother was a third year, he had plenty of enticing stories of his own. Albus had been counting down the days until he could finally walk into the stone castle and sleep in his own Gryffindor bed.  


However, as he began to sob, he realized his first night at Hogwarts had abruptly become his worst nightmare.  


He’d been sorted into Slytherin. Slytherin. The worst house, the snobby house, the nasty house, according to the numerous rants James and Uncle Ron had. The stupid sorting hat had barely touched his frizzy, uncontrollably black hair before proclaiming, “Unquestionably Slytherin!” Albus grabbed the hat and tried to shout some sense into it, before ultimately flinging it to the ground and storming off the stage. The Great Hall was in chaos, conversations blazing a mile a minute, but Albus swore he could hear James’ obnoxious laughter above it all.  


And now here he was, crying in a line of Slytherin first years, being herded to their dorm. He’d heard plenty about the Slytherin dorms from James’ horror stories (“they actually sleep in a dungeon, and one day, the lake above will collapse on top of them!”), and he was absolutely terrified to spend his first night away from home in such a creepy, horrid place. Plus, Albus knew there was no way that ugly accessory was correct. He did not belong in Slytherin. Mum always said he was a sweet boy, and when Dad flew with him, he said they ought to buy the Gryffindor Seeker robes now. His family knew him better than an enchanted hat. And as the first year continued to be led by the prefect in green, he knew he was the only one among them who was crying. Within minutes he was already an outsider to his housemates. Albus wasn’t the type of boy to do anything halfway, either. His tears were streaming down his cheeks, and his sobs couldn’t be choked back. Obviously, he was embarrassed, but at least they hadn’t escaped in front of the entire school.  


The first year in front of him looked back, just as they rounded the corner to the stone entrance of their dorms, and said quickly, “could you please stop crying?”  


Albus’ sobs cut off, and he stared intensely at the platinum haired boy who had the audacity to ask him that.  


“N-No,” said Albus, wiping his cheek with the sleeve of his robe, “because, unlike you, I don’t belong in the worst house of Hogwarts!”  


The boys stopped walking as the prefect girl began explaining how the password worked.  


“Slytherin is a great house,” said the boy, which was how Albus immediately knew he was trouble.  


“Maybe for stuck up purebloods,” the eleven year old had heard others say, “who would sooner throw someone under the bus than buy them a ticket.”  


The boy narrowed his eyes, “So you’re calling yourself a stuck up jerk?”  


“No,” Albus was getting wildly exasperated, “That’s what I’m calling you! I’m not a Slytherin—and I’ll prove it! I’ll write to my dad and he’ll get me transferred.”  


Scorpius’ mouth tightened into a straight line. He knew exactly who Albus Severus Potter was long before everyone in the Great Hall began gossiping about his sorting. His father had warned him about all of the Potter-Weasley-Granger lot.  


“If he doesn’t disown you first, I assume,” said Scorpius, as he thought of the talk between him and his own father before he boarded the Hogwarts Express. He tried to image how he’d feel if he’d been sorted into—dear Merlin—Gryffindor. Perhaps he should cut Albus some slack.  


Albus’ looked ready to pounce. “You don’t know anything, you deatheater!”  


The Slytherin prefect hurried towards them, pushing both boys away from each other quickly. “Okay, it’s your first night here and emotions seem to be running high. Why don’t I help you boys find your rooms.”  


Scorpius drifted off to sleep in a cozy bed that was, mercifully, the farthest he could get from that Potter boy’s room. He could faintly hear sniffling, and took pity on whatever sorry saps had to share a room with that blubbering baby. The last thought he had before drifting into an easy sleep was that he would cut his own pants before he would cut Albus Severus Potter some slack.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one where Albus goes to breakfast as a Slytherin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> feat. Lysander Scamander, son of Luna Lovegood! He's a third year with James!

Before breakfast Albus spent a good fifteen minutes in the cold, stone bathrooms, running water over his face in an attempt to make his eyes less puffy and nose less red. Eventually, he was satisfied and began finding his way back to the Great Hall. All types of breakfast lined the four long tables, and without hesitation he strode towards his brother. James’ Gryffindor friend Lysander Scamander hit at his arm and pointed out the approaching Albus. Though his cheeks were stuffed with a banana muffin, James slowly smirked. Albus could feel numerous eyes glued to him. 

“My favorite Slytherin,” James gave Lysander a shove and Albus slipped in between them. “Do you speak Parseltongue yet?”  


"Shut up,” Albus knew he’d just supplied his brother with fresh teasing material for weeks, maybe months. But soon, that would change, “do you think mum and dad know?” 

James gave a surprised laugh, “After your temper tantrum I’m sure half the UK knows. I’ve never seen so many owls fly out first night. You’ll make Prophet front page, no question.” 

Albus clentched his eleven year old fist and then grabbed a parchement and quill from a pocket of his robes. Lysander and James shared a look. 

“Are you going to give them a quote?” James asked, reaching for another muffin. The Gryffindors around them pretended to have their own conversations. 

“No,” Albus said, as if it were obvious, “I’m writing to mum and dad so they can come and fix everything.” 

Lysander ran a hand threw his sandy blond curls, “Albus, I understand that this is not what you were expecting, but. . . I mean, the hat made you Slytherin.” 

“Well, I spoke to my socks and they disagree,” Albus began furiously scrawling on his parchment, making sure to really emphasize how brave he was being by writing to them. 

James rolled his eyes, but then looked over his little brother. He loved him so much, but he was still hard to understand. They’d always been pretty different. When James was a first year, he’d tried out for Qudditch as a Keeper, and made the team. Albus’ feet could still barely touch the ground as he sat now. But it wasn’t just their physical differences. James couldn’t imagine what he’d be feeling if this had happened to him. He didn’t want to. 

“You shouldn’t ask for special treatment just because of our parents,” James finally said. 

Lysander titled his head, “But James, I thought last night you told Belle that you could use your dad’s invisibility cloak and—“ 

“Okay, that is so different and irrelevant,” James’ slightly widened his brown eyes, “This is about Ally.” 

Albus looked up from his letter immediately, “You brought the invisibility cloak?” 

James tapped his fingers on the table, “Doesn’t matter because it doesn’t even work for a Slytherin,” Albus believed him for 5 seconds, “Now just take your stupid bratty letter and go.” 

Albus put down his pen, and James noticed how puffy his eyes looked. Shit. 

“I want to sit by you guys” Albus confessed, in the softest volume James had ever heard him speak. 

James felt himself giving in, but knew he shouldn’t. It would make it harder. “Look, if anyone of those Slytherins gives you trouble, you can come find me. Whatever. Now go sit with your mandatory house.” 

Albus glared at his brother, and then at Lysander too for good measure, and then stormed off, letter still in hand. James could already predict his parents’ answer, and he hadn’t even taken Divination yet.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quidditch try outs! Who will make the team, and who will go flying off the handle?

It was the end of September, and therefore time for the Slytherin team to hold try outs. Scorpius was nervous, but knew that in the air, his nerves would melt away. In his hand was the most expensive broom on the market. The team needed a seeker. He could do this.

“Alright, looks like it’s just you nine here today,” spoke Kellah, the Slytherin captain this year. “We need a Seeker and a Keeper. I’ve prepared several drills, which you’ll do today, then tomorrow I’ll be officially judging. I pride myself on good sportsmanship, and though I want to create a team ready to win, I will only be accepting teammates who keep a good attitude. Do I make myself clear?” 

Scorpius nodded along with everyone else. He was the only first year here. 

“Wait!” a voice shouted from behind them. Scorpius turned, and saw Albus Severus running towards the pitch, broom in hand. He saw Kellah noticeable check her watch. 

“Wait,” Albus repeated, finally coming to a stop beside the other team hopefuls. “I want to tryout.” 

“I’m glad you could join us,” Kellah flicked her braids over her shoulder. “Is there a reason you’re a good 15 minutes late?” 

Albus planted his feet and stood up straight, his broom just an inch shorter than him. He had the same brand as Scorpius. “I decided that even if I can’t play for Gryffindor, I still need to play.” 

Kellah stared at the scrawny first year and then grabbed her own broom, “Interesting loyalties.” Scorpius knew then that Albus had no hope of making the team. Unless he was a perfect Quidditch player. Sure, Scorpius had lessons, but his mum never played professionally. He suddenly felt more nervous. 

Kellah mounted her broom and took to the sky. Everyone quickly began following suit. As soon as Scorpius had his leg’s around his broom he felt much more at ease. He would just play his best, and if Albus was better than him, then he truly deserved the spot. The worst that could happen was facing his father’s obvious disappointment. As if he’d never faced that before. 

Scorpius scanned the other brooms to spot the other first year, but he couldn’t see a mop of black hair anywhere. Then he glanced down. 

Albus hadn’t take off yet. He was on the pitch, broom between his legs, looking furious. Kellah took notice, and when she flew back down, everyone else followed, Scorpius included. 

“Is something wrong, Mr. Potter?” Kellah asked, clearly not amused. 

Albus clenched the handle tighter. “I-I don’t know! It’s not doing what I want it to do!” 

“Have you tried screaming and throwing it to the ground?” Scorpius asks, because the opportunity was too good. The other kids laughed. Albus gritted his teeth. 

“Perhaps you ought to learn to take off before try outs next year,” Kellah said, her tone making the others quiet down immediately. “I suggest you make room for Flying in your schedule.” She took flight once again, and one by one, everyone joined her, except for Albus, who had started walking towards his dorm, after throwing his broom to the ground. 

Two days later, the list was posted. Albus knew he wouldn’t see his name, but he checked anyway. When James asked if Scorpius was going to be a tough seeker to beat, he told him to shut up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ( Not so )fun fact: Apparently being overemotional and anxious makes it impossible for some 11 year old boys who have practiced flying with their parents (who literally both played for Gryffindor) to take off!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first Quidditch game of the year! Will Albus and Scorpius ever become friends?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *hits head against wall* angst angst angst

It was the end of November, and Scorpius had gone a good two months without talking to Albus. He’d barely seen him, either. They had one class together (History of Magic), and Albus only came to the Slytherin dorms to sleep. He usually ate lunch at the Gryffindor table, too, though not always with his older brother. In fact, since his brother had started dating Belle Fisher, he rarely sat with him. Instead, he’d made fast friends with Rose Granger-Weasley (first year) and Lysander Scamander, and before long, most of the Gryffindor house had adopted him as an ‘honorary Lion’.

Though Albus hadn’t been around, he seemed to be all anyone talked about. A Hufflepuff in Herbology chatted his ear off about how amazing it was that Albus could unite the houses, and a Ravenclaw in astronomy told him her theories about why Albus really belonged in her house, the story of the Quidditch try out had every Slytherin first year playing a game called ‘The Albus’ (someone randomly shouted ‘Albus’ and you had to throw the nearest item to you on the ground and start crying) and overall it was extremely annoying. His Quidditch team seemed to be the only people in school not talking about Albus, so he threw himself into practices quite eagerly. 

The first game of the year had been between Gryffindor and Slytherin, which was always very competitive. His parents were there, both proudly sporting green, and cheering him on from the stands. Sometimes his parents could feel a bit controlling (particularly his father) but he knew their strict rules and expectations came from love. 

After half and hour, neither Scorpius nor the Gryffindor seeker, a sixth year girl, had spotted the snitch. Christine, the Slytherin Keeper, pointed her chin towards the stands, and Scorpius looked towards them only to see someone short dressed head to toe in red and gold leading a wave among the crowd. He wondered what Mr. and Mrs. Potter knew about Albus’s tryouts. 

From the corner of his eye he saw the Gryffindor seeker dive, and without hesitation, he started diving faster. 

After winning their first Quidditch match, the Slytherin common room had been completely transformed. Scorpius hardly recognized it, and not just because everyone kept congratulating him, and twirling him around, insisting on just one dance. 

The next day was Saturday, and Scorpius happily slept in. He was still glowing from last night, and the praise of his parents, as he settled in on the Slytherin couch and started reading his History of Magic textbook. 

Al walked into the common room from outside, so either he was an early riser, or he hadn’t slept in his dorm last night. He was half way to his dorm, when he skidded to a halt, and then pivoted towards Scorpius, who kept his eyes glued to the page. 

“Did you enjoy your ‘victory’ last night?” Albus asked in the most heavily sarcastic voice Scorpius had even heard. He’d even used his fingers to create physical air quotes around victory. 

Scorpius did not want to engage with this 4"10 anger issue, “Yes.” 

Albus folded his arms, indignantly, “Really? Because my brother said your dad was there and he cheated for you.” 

Scorpius set his textbook on the cushion next to him, “Rest assure, he didn’t.” 

Two housemates who were playing wizard chess suddenly looked a lot most invested in their boards. 

Albus laughed, “Sure. The same way he wasn’t a deatheater—“ 

“My father didn’t need to cheat for me,” Scorpius spoke without thinking, calmly and cooly, “because I know how to take off.” 

Three housemates who had been chatting by the fire suddenly stopped talking. 

His laughter stopped, “For all I know, you-you poisoned my broom.” 

“Oh, is that why you’re a Slytherin, too? Did I poison the sorting hat?” 

“I’m not a Slytherin,” Albus said firmly, “It’s still all being fixed—“ 

“It wouldn’t matter if you moved dorms, or played on their Quidditch team, or used the Sword of Gryffindor. You can’t fix yourself.” 

Albus glared, “You’re the one you needs fixing! I’ve heard, that, your dad worked for Voldemort! And everyone is scared of you, because people say you could be a deatheater, or even his son.” 

Scorpius took out his wand and pointed it straight at Albus, “The worst rumor about me is that I’m not my father’s son, but the worst rumor about you is that you are.” 

One of the wizard chess players must’ve, at some point, slipped away and found Marina, the Prefect girl from their first day at school. She strode into the room and quickly got between them. 

“Okay, this ends right now. Expelliarmus!” The wand flew from Scorpius’ hand, right as Albus lunged forward and tackled him to the ground. 

There were several gasps and general upheaval as more Slytherin’s piled into the common room to see what was going on. Marina struggled to intervene between them, her mind going blank on which spell would be wise to use. 

Scorpius was stronger, but Albus had the advantage of having James and Lily for siblings, both of whom were very into roughhousing. One variable Albus didn’t take into account was Scorpius had been the top of his boxing class. 

“Enough, enough!” Marina finally settled on prying them apart with her bare hands, and thankfully two Slytherin fourth years were able to hold them both back. As Marina began her lecture which ended with deducted house points (much to everyone irritation) and the administration of six detentions each, the boys glared at each other. 

Scorpius, with his ripped robe, and Albus, with his black eye.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the middle of December, and relationships grow colder.

Scorpius didn’t know what had gotten into him. He typically avoided confrontation, especially at home, and he’d certainly never physically hurt anyone in his life. Something about Albus Severus just pushed him off the edge. The next morning he took a deep breath and headed to breakfast. It appeared news of their fight had reached everyone, if the whispers and pointing were any indicators. Scorpius took a seat across from Rodger and Nathan, two of his roommates, who looked at him like he’d just kicked a puppy.

“Is something wrong?” Scorpius asked, wondering if he’d hear a tale of him stabbing Albus Potter in his sleep. 

Rodger grimaced, “Just, everyone knows you attacked Albus Severus. I think he might actually transfer to Gryffindor, now. Harry Potter’s his dad, you know.” 

Scorpius looked over Rodger’s shoulder and saw Albus sitting between James and Rose, with almost every Gryffindor comforting him with a pitiful expression. His black eye had begun to turn purple, and Scorpius knew that Madam Beckford could have healed that by now. Scorpius realized with a jolt that maybe this was exactly what Albus had wanted. Surely, his family wouldn’t want him in a house where he was beaten up, and everyone would quickly believe it was by a Malfoy. Scorpius had played right into his hand. 

Albus’ cunningness and ambition to prove himself would’ve made Salazar Slytherin proud. 

It was the last day before winter break, and the day was already half over. Scorpius began packing his bag after Astronomy, deep in thought over what he’d say during holiday. His friends were limited to his Quidditch team, since his roommates had joined most of the school in signing Petition to Let Albus Join Gryffindor. What a load of rubbish. 

“I’m Rose Granger-Weasley,” Scorpius slung his bag over his shoulder and stared at the Gryffindor first year girl standing before him. She had long, frizzy auburn hair pulled back in two braids, and her brown eyes were fiery with anger, like lasers trained on his face. 

“I know,” he answered, fiddling with the strap on his bag. 

She walked out the door of Astronomy, and with one last glance at Professor Morton, he followed behind her. Once in the hallway, she spun around and pointed an accusatory finger at his chest. 

“You must think it’s some big laugh to pick on Albus, don’t you?” she accused. 

Scorpius opened his mouth, but then closed it. He didn’t know what to say, and he blamed it on how close Rose was to him. He couldn’t even think. 

She glared, “I want you to stay away from my cousin, and never bully anyone else again. Do I make myself clear?” 

He studied her righteous expression, and finally decided to say, “Yes. I swear I’ll stop.” 

Rose blinked in surprise, but then went right back on the defensive, “You had better.” 

“Rose,” James Potter appeared in their corridor, and when he saw Scorpius he looked like he’d just swallowed a lemon, “why are you talking with this pureblood shit?” 

“Excuse me?” Scorpius could not believe he’d just been called ‘shit’ by a third year boy. The language! 

James apparently took the question as a personal challenge. He strode toward Scorpius, pushing him backwards until his back was against the stone wall. He straightened to tower over the first year boy, “Next time you want to give a black eye, find me. Maybe you need a taste of your own medicine.” 

Scorpius knew he should walk away. Every cell in his body was screaming to run to the library, find a good book, and lay down. But he was only eleven, and still pretty upset that his flying victory had been overshadowed by Albus’ Pity Party. 

Do you punch as poorly as you fly?” Scorpius asked, just before James drew back his fist and aimed for the first year’s face. Instinctually, Scorpius ducked down, and then flinched at the horrible cracking sound of James’ fist connecting with stone. Rose sprang into action. 

“James!” She rushed toward him and put her arms around his shoulders as James howled and bent over, clutching his likely broken hand. If Rose’s glare had been lasers before, now they were an Unforgiveable Curse. “Let’s go find Madam Beckford. I’m sure she’ll be horrified to see a second Potter within the same month.” As Rose lead her anguished cousin towards the hospital wing, Scorpius straightened up and took a shaky breath. 

That night during dinner, James regaled every Gryffindor with the treacherous fight, but no one was more upset than Albus. He let Lysander grab his dinner roll from his plate, and didn’t even hear when Rose began telling people about her theory that Scorpius is a sadist. All he could do was pick at his turkey and furiously scheme up new plans to get himself placed in Gryffindor, where he would belong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> what's up next? a healthy dose of friendship!


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a little summer moment after their first year

It was July and Albus had just finished taking Snitch for a walk. Lily had been the one to name their pup when the family had first adopted him three years ago. He was a beautiful Golden Retriever, and when his then seven year old sister had seen the streak of gold run across the yard, she’d decided his name with certainty. The then eleven year old James quickly came up with some unflattering nicknames. Albus couldn’t help but love and miss his dog, even though Quidditch wasn’t something he much wanted to think about ever again.

“James apologize to your sister,” Albus paused in the doorway of their home when he heard the reprimanding voice of his mother from the kitchen. He was torn by the desire to see James in trouble, and the desire to avoid whatever collateral damage might occur. 

James laughed, and Albus didn’t know if turning 15 had taught James ways to avoid their mum’s wrath, or just made him stupid. “Why? I just stated a fact.” 

Now Albus noticed the sound of Lily crying. Oh, God. What happened? He’d only been gone 20 minutes. 

“You’ve made her upset,” his mother said, firmly. 

“But it’s true,” James said, nonchalantly, “She could be placed in Slytherin. Ally was.” 

“Take that back!” Lily all but shrieked and Albus felt his stomach drop to the floor. His grip on Snitch’s lead loosened, and the dog broke out of his grasp and ran straight towards his water dish in the kitchen. 

Realizing he was there, James sauntered into the living room while Ginny took Lily to her bedroom, muttering reassurances that all houses could be wonderful. It made her cry harder. 

“Dad’s preparing dinner on the grill,” James announced, flopping onto their couch. Albus walked into the room but didn’t sit. When Ginny came back in, she wrapped an arm around Albus’ shoulders. 

“Do you boys want to fix up some homemade icecream for dessert?” Ginny asked, obviously trying to compensate for Lily’s reaction. 

“No,” Albus broke free from her grasp and turned to face her. “I want you and dad to tell McGonagall or Aunt Hermione or someone to put me in Gryffindor. It’s not fair.” 

Ginny bent to look him in the eyes and put a hand on his shoulder, “I know, Al, I read every letter. But your father and I love you no matter what silly house you’re in. This will be a fun adventure, and I’m sure that everything will seem better once you’ve made some amazing friends in Slytherin.” 

James snorted, “Okay Mum, in Ally’s defense, you don’t know the other first year Slytherins. They make Peeves seem pleasant.” 

Scorpius had one more week until classes resumed, and shockingly, he was eagerly anticipating September first. The Malfoy Manor always seemed large, but after his first year, constant alone time was beginning to feel extremely lonely. He missed Quidditch, he missed his team, he even missed Rodger’s snores and Nathan’s cringe-worthy stories of trying to woo a beautiful Hufflepuff fifth year. His parents were always around for family dinner, but their questions seemed borderline paranoid. Making sure he was getting enough sleep, making sure he was pushing himself in class. His lecture about receiving detention had been the topic of too many dinners to count. 

The highlight of the summer had been going flying with his father. He wasn’t too bad, just sorely out of practice, even if he had managed to win a few races. 

But now, at 10 o’clock at night, Scorpius laid on his white bedsheets and read a book. He was counting down the hours until he’d be on the Hogwarts Express. He’d grown far more attached to that castle than he anticipated.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay NEXT chapter has some friendship


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Second year shenanigans!

On the first day of his second year, Albus was thrilled to see Professor Longbottom (who he’d grown accustomed to calling Uncle Neville) when he walked into herbology. Professor Longbottom was obviously very passionate about his work, and even though he didn’t particularly have an interest in greenery, he knew Uncle Neville would make it fun.

Neville’s first lesson was already proving to be very entertaining. He’d asked if anybody in class knew how to determine a type of flower based on smell, and Scorpius had, of course, bragged about his herbology skills and volunteered to sniff and guess. Albus was the first to laugh when Scorpius had leaned in close to the dark blue flowers, and was abruptly sprayed by the magical plants with a puff of pink pollen. Neville quickly found Scorpius a clean towel and reprimanded the class for laughing, since every great herbologist had to accept getting their hands dirty and blah blah blah. He went on that schpeel for a good ten minutes, while Scorpius wiped his face that had gone as pink as the pollen. 

The next period he had was Potions, which was a Slytherin/Gryffindor class. Albus walked in and sat beside Rose and two of her Gryffindor friends, Molly and Val. Both girls laughed as he regaled them with the herbology antics, maybe embellishing some details so the story ended with Albus naming the flower correctly and Scorpius peeing his pants. Rose just listened with an uninterested expression. 

The teacher, Professor Carmichael, announced that she had already divided the class into partners for the year, “When I call your names, find a table for both of you and sit quietly until I reveal further instructions. Rose Granger-Weasley, and Gregory Brown.” Rose moved to sit with her partner, a Slytherin Albus didn’t recognize, and Professor Carmichel continued down the list. Albus waited for his name until he finally heard, “Albus Potter, and Scorpius Malfoy.” 

Albus’s head twisted to affirm that what he heard was true. He hadn’t even noticed that Scorpius was in this class. As soon as his eyes landed on the platinum blond boy, his hand shot into the air and he blurted, “Professor Carmichael?” 

She stopped talking, one finger on her predetermined list, and her wrinkled face turned toward Albus, “Yes, Mr.Potter?” 

“I need a partner change. There’s no way I could soak up your wisdom and really give me all to this extremely important course with Scorpius as my partner. I’m afraid our skill levels simply don’t match, and I would rather not have a slow partner.” Several kids oohed, and Albus noticed that both Molly and Val stifled laughs. They sure thought he was funny. 

Professor Carmichael pursued her lips, but slowly nodded, “If that’s the case. Would anyone volunteer to switch part—oh, yes, Ms. Granger Weasley, how generous of you. The new partners will be Albus Potter, Gregory Conrad, and Rose Granger-Weasley with Scorpius Malfoy.” 

Albus, Rose, and Greg’s protestations went unheard by Professor Carmichael, as she continued through her list until everyone was paired. Albus grumbled as he dropped his caldron on the table beside Greg’s, but he figured in the scheme of things, Rose drew the short stick. The glare she threw at Albus though seemed mild compared to the one she had when she looked at Scorpius. 

The first Slytherin Quidditch practice was soon here, and Scorpius was absolutely thrilled. They only had one new team member (Nina, a second year like him) so they already knew how to work well together. Kellah, their captain last year, had graduated, but their new captain was decided to be Roger, a kind seventh year beater, and Scorpius was even more excited. 

Roger worked them hard, despite his quiet shy demeanor, and after two hours Scorpius’ muscles hurt in the best way. 

"Good work, team,” Roger shouted, “Now go change and run off to bed. I really don’t want to hear of any shenanigans. If you get into trouble, you won’t be able to come to practice on Friday.” The team, in good spirits, flew down to the locker rooms and got ready to make the trek back to the common room. Scorpius set down his broom and chatted with his teammates (Nina was very funny), but didn’t change. Roger, remembering Scorpius’ habit last year, rolled his eyes fondly and told him he shouldn’t overwork himself. Scorpius just smiled. He liked working hard, because he wanted to give everything he attempted 100% of his effort. If that meant staying after Quidditch practice and going over every drill by himself, then that’s what he’d do. 

The rest of the team filed away, and Scorpius grabbed his broom and returned to the pitch. Only in the center of the field he saw someone in normal robes on a broom that was hovering five feet in the air. He couldn’t make out who it was, or even what house they were in, so he stealthily moved forward to get a closer look. Eventually, he saw a slim outline and unruly black hair, and he couldn’t resist shouting out, 

“Albus, what are you doing?” 

Like a frightened cartoon cat, Albus arched upward before losing balance and toppling to the ground. Scorpius panicked. Albus was a grade A jerk but he didn’t belong in the hospital wing. 

“Are you alright?” Scorpius ran forward, offering a hand that Albus didn’t accept. 

“I’m fine!” He snapped, pushing himself up. “Absolutely fine, and I’m leaving.” 

Scorpius stood in his way, “Were you trying to fly?” 

Albus pushed past him, broom in hand, and started walking towards the bleachers, where Scorpius suddenly noticed an athletic bag, “I don’t need to try to fly, I know how to fly! Just, shut up.” 

Scorpius walked right beside him, “Well of course you know how to fly. You’re just rubbish at it.” 

Albus sped up, “Well it’s a shame we don’t all have Dads who would cheat at Quidditch for us.” 

“My Dad doesn’t cheat! Why are you here? Spying on our practice for James, were you?” 

Albus grabbed his apparent bag and spun to face Scorpius, “You wouldn’t understand.” 

Scorpius glared, “If you’re spying for Gryffindor then I’ll have to alert Headmaster McGonagall. Might as well confess now, because there’s no lying to her.” 

Albus laughed once, “Gryffindor doesn’t need spies to beat Slytherin. They’re by far the better team. And if I could try out for them, I wouldn’t need to practice at all because it would come naturally to me, because that’s what my parents did. And James. But because I am forced to try out for stupid Slytherin next year, I naturally reject—“ 

“Don’t try out next year then,” Scorpius said, frustrated. “My team doesn’t need you.” 

“I obviously have to play Quidditch,” Albus glared, “And I’ll be the best! Better than James, better than you—“ 

“You are,” Scorpius interrupted, “clearly delusional. Do you hear yourself speak? You couldn’t even get off the ground at tryouts last year—“ 

“That was your fault!” Albus pointed at him, and Scorpius felt as angry as he did when they’d physically fought. 

“My fault?” 

“Yes,” Albus continued, “Because playing on a team with a rotten Slytherin like you makes me so sick I can’t fly.” 

“Slytherins aren’t bad. I know you must here those lies from your brother and father and mother, but it’s true! A stupid enchanted hat said you were a Slytherin which means you’re ambitions and cunning and going to sleep under a lake for seven years for your life! You are, beyond a doubt, the most annoying, prejudice, dramatic person I’ve ever met! It’s been over a year, and you’re still trying to be your stupid father. Guess what, Albus? If you aren’t good at Quidditch, then don’t bloody play Quidditch and blame me for letting your, your fear of disappointing people render you unable to fly!” 

Albus looked furious, and Scorpius half expected him to start swinging. But instead, he slowly sank down to the bleachers, and eyes trained on the grass, leaned his elbows on his legs and put his face in his hands. Scorpius noticed his hands shaking. 

Scorpius, broom in hand, almost sat down next to him, before straightening his spine and reshuffling his feet. He started to speak, “If you. . .” 

Albus didn’t look up, “What?” he asked, harshly. 

“If you. . . wanted. I could, um. . .” 

This time, Albus did look up, his cheeks dry but eyes glistening, “You could what? Punch me in the face again?” 

Scorpius spoke quickly, “I could help you practice or something.” Albus was annoying, prejudice, and dramatic, but seeing him like this make Scorpius feel off kilter. 

At the suggestion, Albus rose from the bleachers, an indignant fire relighting behind his eyes. “I would die before taking flying lessons from the worst seeker I’ve ever seen!” with a huff of his old contempt, he grabbed his broom and bag, and started back towards the common room. “And,” he called over his shoulder, “I’m not dramatic!” 

Albus had grown accustomed to eating with Rose, Lysander, and other Gryffindors at every meal. He knew, definitely knew, absolutely, that he belonged with the brave of heart, and though he couldn’t sleep in their dorm (which he’d tried once, before James threatened to physically kick his ass out of his bed) he could still enjoy meals with the best house in school. He loved laughing along with all the Gryffindor’s, and even James was fun to talk to (sometimes, when he wasn’t flirting with his girlfriend or being a prat). Albus walked into the Great Hall for dinner, and made a beeline for Rose, only to skid to a stop as James stood and held out an arm. 

“I know you took it, Albus Severus,” James spoke the way Mum did last month when Albus accidently threw a ball for Snitch through their kitchen window. 

“Your brains?” Albus questioned, as more and more students started to tune into their confrontation, “hmm, not sure you ever had them to begin with.” 

“I know you took my cloak, and if you don’t give it back to me right now, you are so dead,” James spoke with gritted teeth, as Rose grabbed a handful of Lysander’s crisps. 

“Firstly, I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Albus smiled smugly, laying on his twelve year old innocence, “and second of all, if you’re missing your cloak, I reckon you ought to write Dad. He might be concerned. About your cloak.” 

At that, every student in range began discussing in low murmurs. James’ dark eyebrows scrunched down. 

“If you want to act like a Slytherin little shit, then fine. Fine. Go sit with your accomplices.” With a final glare, James slid back into the Gryffindor table. Albus, slightly off guard, stepped toward Rose, but James pointed a finger. “Oh, no! You’re sitting with the snakes! And if you try to slither your way out of this, I swear I will write Dad and tell him you stole his cloak. And honestly, who’s he going to believe, Salazar?” 

Albus’ mouth was a straight line as he abruptly turned on his heels and marched to the Slytherin table with his head high. He kept telling himself that this had been a victory, even as he felt so many eyes on him as he sat down next to his potions partner, Greg. 

This side of the table had suddenly gone quiet, but Albus grabbed a sandwich as if this was a normal night. “Hello, Greg.” 

Greg shared a hesitant glance with the girl next to him, Nina, before mumbling, “Er- hi.” 

“You can come back when the cloak comes back,” James shouted across the Great Hall. Albus’ back was toward him, and he didn’t give any sign of hearing his brother. Albus simply bit into his sandwich and pretended like this was totally fine and normal. 

Scorpius, across from Greg, tried to resume their previous conversation, “So you were saying about Hogsmeade-“ 

Greg quickly took over, grateful for the conversation starter, “Right! So my older sister, she’s Ravenclaw, always says that Hogsmeade trips are the best. I can’t wait for next year.” 

Scorpius listened to Greg prattle on, but his eyes kept drifting towards Albus, who was biting into his food like it had personally offended him. Scorpius wondered if Albus would speak to any of them, and after Greg and Nina traded Hogsmeade stories for a good fifteen minutes, he did. 

“Were we given Potions homework yesterday?” Albus asked, turned his entire torso toward Greg, who tried to blink back his surprise. 

“Um, no,” said Greg, “I don’t think so.” 

Scorpius put down his pumpkin juice, “Yes, we were.” Albus sent a stifling look in his direction, but he continued, “We’re supposed to do twelve equations. Rose did thirteen of them before we left class.” 

Albus snorted, knowing that probably wasn’t an exaggeration. A wave of shock washed over his face, as he realized who he’d just smiled at. Albus returned to his sandwich, and Scorpius bit into his apple. 

The fireplace cackled behind the couch, casting a long shadow onto the common room floor. Scorpius was sitting, utterly alone, writing an essay for herbology. Today’s Quidditch practice had tired him out, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to sleep until his homework was done. It was only February first of his second year, but it appeared that classwork was multiplying like baby rabbits. Herbology was definitely going to be his hardest course. He liked his professor, but despite his Slytherin blood, he did not possess a green thumb. 

He forced himself to write another sentence, quickly consulting his open textbook to make sure that the facts he was sprouting about sprouts were actually correct. Suddenly, he saw feet. Just feet. Scorpius’s hands went slack, quill resting on his paper, as he clearly watched nothing but two bare feet walk around the couch and toward the door. He almost had a heart attack, before the memories of last night’s dinner came rushing back to him. 

“Your feet are showing,” he blurted. 

The feet stopped moving, and then suddenly disappeared, as if an annoying second year boy had let an invisibility cloak fall over them. The only sound was the occasional cackle of the fireplace flames. The common room door opened and closed, and several seconds passed before Scorpius looked down and cursed at the large ink stain his idle quill had left on his essay. If he failed herbology, he had nobody to blame but Albus. 

Potions was quickly becoming Albus’ favorite class. He started eating meals with Greg (and whichever Slytherins happened to be sitting by him, whatever), and he discovered that while Greg was quite bad at potions making, he was a good friend. Rose often complained to him in the library about having Scorpius as a partner, which was really supposed to be Albus’ cross to bear. He didn’t really get why she complained so much though, as Scorpius was actually better than her at potions (he’d say as much and got a magical history textbook to the arm). 

In class, Scorpius tried to pay attention to Professor Carmichael covering the finer points of a mixing, but his eyes were always drawn to Rose. Her lovely auburn hair in a long braid down her back. Her fiery focus and determination to understand every subject. Finally, he couldn’t stop himself. He leaned toward her and whispered, “Did you have a nice Valentines day?” 

“What is that supposed to mean?” she immediately shot back, with a glare. 

“I’m-uh, just curious,” Scorpius said, suddenly nervous. 

“Why? Hoping I got stood up by my date? Well, the laughs on you, sadist. I never made plans to go on a date.” 

He ought to have learned by now that a conversation with Rose required a dictionary.


	8. Chapter 8

It was March 2nd when Albus sat facing Molly and Val, two Gryffindor friends from his potions class. Each girl sat with wide eyes, laughing in all the right places of his story.

“It was then I said,” one dimple on Albus’ right cheek showed, a sure sign that he was enjoying himself, “’I thought the nuts were for the cookies.’” Their shrill giggles echoed in the library. 

“Albus, you’re so funny,” Molly sighed and flicked her curly black hair behind her shoulders. 

“You thought that was funny? Have I told you about last summer, when James fell asleep at the beach?” 

Val squealed, “No! What happened?” 

Albus regaled them with a tale of sunburns and pinching crabs, while across the library, Scorpius and Greg poured over textbooks. Or rather, tried to. 

“My birthday is this Sunday,” Greg lamented. 

“I’m sure the house elves will provide cake,” Scorrpius didn’t look up from his textbook. 

“Just cake? Scorpius, I’m turning 13. In some cultures, I’d be officially a man. I want to go to Hogsmeade.” 

Scorpius rolled his eyes, corners of his mouth twitching upward, “You know we can’t go to Hogsmeade until next year. It’s the rules.” 

A peal of laughter cut through the air, making Scorpius’ eyebrows furrow. 

“Okay, who is laughing that loudly in a library?” 

Now Greg rolled his eyes, “It’s Albus at a table of girls. Gryffindor girls. Reckon he takes after his brother in the dating department.” 

Another burst of laughter, and Scorpius closed his book. “Let’s go study in the Common Room. Distractions definitely won’t be there.” 

Greg happily closed his textbook, but started glancing over his shoulder. 

“What?” Scorpius tried to see what Greg was looking at. Greg turned his attention back onto the boy in front of him. 

“You know I don’t gossip. I can’t stand people who do. But, I mean, you can’t blame me for wondering.” 

Scorpius’s face went slack, and his stomach plumpted to the bottom of the lake. He knew kids and adults alike invented stories about his family, but he never expected that kind of judgement from one of his best friends- 

“Do you and Albus really hate each other? Like your parents?” 

He let out the breath he’d been holding, and relief filled his lungs. “Oh. I haven’t spoken to Albus in, I don’t even remember. Months. Since I offered to help him with Quidditch—“ 

“What?!” Greg’s exclamation turned a few, annoyed, heads. Scorpius quickly shushed him. “What?!” Greg repeated several notches lower, with the same intensity. “That’s like his Achilles heel. Have you seen him at a Quidditch game? He’s so insecure.” 

“How could you know that?” Scorpius asked incredulously. 

“Body language, facial features, how could you not? Jesusmary, you have absolutely no people skills.” Greg snorted. “Offering to teach him Quidditch. His mum’s a blood professional.” 

“I was just- I didn’t know what to say. He’s physically attacked me before, you know.” 

“Yeah, that’s why everyone thinks you’re a sadist.” 

“Everyone thinks I’m a sadist?” Scorpius’ blue eyes widened considerably. 

“Look,” Greg put a hand on Scorpius’ textbook, “you and Albus sit on either side of me at meals, and you never speak to each other. Just, I don’t know, talk to him sometime. I like talking to you, and I like talking to Albus. So I really don’t understand the weird tension. And- why are you opening your textbook? Scorpi-“ 

“Hey, Greg.” Albus put a hand on the back of Greg’s chair, and Scorpius stuck his nose deeper into his book. 

“Albus!” Greg twisted in his seat to get a better view, “Just working on my charms essay. It’s the worst.” 

“I imagine the only thing worse than writing a charms essay is having to grade yours,” Albus grinned, giving Greg’s shoulder a pat. 

Greg crinkled his nose, “Strongly agree. Why would anyone become a Charms professor? Of their own free will, too.” 

“Why are your afterschool plans? As in, after graduation?” 

Greg sat up straighter, “You know Tottie’s Bar in Diagon Alley? My parents own it. When they retire, I’ll take over, and go global.” 

“Why is it called Tottie’s?” Albus inquired. 

“Because my parents were intoxicated when they named it, I don’t know. Oh, but Scorpius here, he has his life all planned out. Right Scorpius?” 

“What was that?” Scorpius lifted his head, staring pointedly at Greg. 

“Albus was just asking about your future plans.” 

“I was asking-“ Albus began. 

“No it’s okay,” Scorpius carefully met Albus’ annoyed gaze, “If you’re so curious. I want to go to law school.” 

“Law? You want to be a lawyer?” 

“No, a pirate.” Scorpius deadpan delivery forced a smile from Albus. 

“Well, good luck with all future endeavors, Legally Blond.” Albus walked over to a table of Hufflepuffs, who greeted him with smiles. He was like a bee, but instead of pollen, he flew around searching for conversation. 

“That went great,” Greg said, without a trace of sarcasm. Scorpius almost agreed.


	9. Chapter 9

Scorpius smiled at Nina, who was doing a spot on impression of Professor Longbottom. If she was taller, whiter, and a man, he would’ve felt like he was in class. Herbology was his least favorite subject, because for whatever reason he just couldn’t seem to muster any ounce of interest for plants. Probably because it was his worst subject. However, Professor Longbottom wasn’t too bad, if a little scatterbrained. Greg, who had now been 13 for a total of 48 hours, was embracing his manhood by chatting up Christine, the Slytherin Keeper. She rested a hand on his arm, and his chest puff out like a black haired peacock. Suddenly, Scorpius felt a tap on his shoulder, and judging by Nina’s surprised expression, he had a feeling who it might be.

“Scorpius,” said Albus, every muscle tensed, “I need to speak with you in private.” 

He laughed, while Nina’s wide, eyeliner smudged eyes remained glued to Albus’ clenched jaw, “am I in trouble?” 

Albus had seemed to gain a few inches since winter break, but he must have been generously 5”6. Scorpius had a least three inches on him. Yet, that didn’t make him appear less threatening. Of course, Albus was mad at him. He couldn’t go one semester without fighting this guy. 

“Just come with me. Now.” 

Scorpius followed a step behind Albus all the way back to the Slytherin dorms, which also happened to be on the opposite side of the campus from Charms, the class that was starting in 20 minutes. 

“You know, I’ve got charms in 20 minutes,” Scorpius said, as Albus strode across the Common Room and into his dorm. Scorpius followed. 

Once they were inside, Albus pulled the door closed behind Scorpius and turned on him. “You stole my invisibility cloak and I want it back immediately.” 

On the list of sentence Scorpius was expecting Albus to say, that wasn’t even in the top 40. “What? I didn’t steal-“ 

“I know it was you!” Albus kept his chin up, glaring. 

“I swear on the bible. On my life. On anything you’d like. I’m not a thief.” Scorpius spoke calmly, but viciously. 

“It must have been you,” Albus spoke with the conviction of a man underwater telling himself he’s not drowning, “because you knew I had it. The beginning of the year, in the common room, you saw my feet-“ 

“Oh yes, yes, I seem to recall you and James shouting about it at lunch.” 

“Other people wouldn’t have known it was an invisibility cloak.” Albus clenched his fists, getting more exasperated with each word. 

“What about James?” he scoffed, “He clearly wanted it back.” 

“Yes, obviously, James was suspected number one,” Albus began pacing, with his hands still in fists, “but, I realized it was gone last night, and he hadn’t rubbed it in my face yet. That’s not his style.” 

Scorpius’ eyes narrowly followed Albus’ movements, “That’s a good point. But I swear it wasn’t me. I swear on Quidditch. I swear on my family.” 

Albus abruptly froze, the tension growing so his shoulders were nearly by his ears, “My family. Oh my god, they’re going to kill me. James will tell them everything, and Mum will ground me for 6 years, and Dad is going to be so mad. He won’t even look at me. I can’t play Quidditch and I can’t be Gryffindor and I can’t do anything right.” 

Albus’ green eyes were pointed to the floor, but all he could see was the rage and hurt his family would feel. Because of his mistake. He didn’t deserve to be their son. 

“I. . .” Scorpius smoothed down his sweater. “should really get to class.” 

“Leave.” Albus croaked out, head spinning. He should just ditch his first class, muggle studies. What was the point? Maybe his parents would have him expelled. 

Scorpius couldn’t take it any longer. He may not have people skills, but he just had to say something. “Look, your parents might have high expectations for you-“ 

“High expectations? Just leave me alone,” Albus put his back toward him. He would handle this alone. He was always better alone. 

“but I know what that’s like!” Scorpius stepped forward, with one hand out, but immediately drew his hand back. He had no idea what he was doing, but he didn’t like seeing anyone in this state. Albus looked devastated. And a fear of disappointing others was a fear Scorpius knew like the back of his hand. 

“Oh really?” Albus spun back around, with arms crossed, “You can really relate to having a father who defeated evil at the same age you still weren’t potty trained?” 

“Well,” Scorpius didn’t hesitate, “basically. Do you know how many professors called me Draco first year? Three. Which, is a lot, proportionally. And other kids, like you, are always bringing up my parents’ past. This one 4th year Gryffindor is utterly convinced that I’m actually-“ 

“Okay, that’s, not the same thing.” Albus said bitterly. 

Scorpius rolled his eyes, “That’s exactly the same thing. I’m not my parents, and neither are you. The past doesn’t even matter.” 

Albus glared hesitantly, as if he wasn’t sure if this was helping, “The present does, and presently, I’m about to be disowned by my entire family, including Uncle Ron and Aunt Hermione and-“ 

“That’s it,” Scorpius nearly jumped with the realization, but Albus continued to list names. 

“Uncle Neville and Aunt Luna and-“ 

“Albus, I know who took your invisibility cloak.” This time, Scorpius stepped forward and grabbed Albus by his elbows. Albus flinched and tried to step away, weary of what Scorpius was doing, but Scorpius just gripped tighter. 

“Go on, Sherlock,” Albus spat, still trying to get away, “please, enlighten me-“ 

“It was Rose!” Scorpius seemed thrilled, feeling the same rush of euphoria he got from finishing a fantastic mystery novel. 

Albus laughed, once, “Rose! It was. . .” his face scrunched up, then fell slack in realization, “Oh my god it was. It was Rose!” 

“Surely she’s heard stories-” 

“from her parents,” Albus finished his sentence. “Of course! And like last week she was going on and on about how unfair it was students couldn’t read from the forbidden section!” 

Scorpius let go of Albus and took a thoughtful step back, “That is unfair, wow. Maybe I should’ve considered-“ 

“This makes so much sense. Now we just need to steal it back!” Albus said, excitedly. Scorpius made a face. 

“We?” 

Albus looked 40% shocked and 60% disgusted by his own choice of words, “uh, I mean, no. I. You should go. You’re, going to be late for potions.” 

“Charms,” corrected Scorpius. 

“whatever,” Albus walked over to his bed, forgetting Scropius like he was an old sock that didn’t make it into the laundry hamper. Scorpius smoothed out his sweater. Then smoothed it again. 

“If I helped you steal it, could I borrow it once- just once- to look at the forbidden books. I swear that’s all.” 

Albus returned his attention to him. Studied him. He was usually very good at reading people. “Only if I go with you. So you don’t run off with it in the night.” 

“Deal!” Scorpius grinned, “thank you. Okay, at lunch, we can figure out the logistics.” 

“But in here. We’ll strategize, and then get back what’s rightfully mine.” 

“Technically your dad’s-“ 

“Okay, first rule of our tentative alliance, we don’t mention technicalities.”


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The perfect plan to get back the invisibility cloak!

Greg shrugged off his blazer for the third time, still deciding if it would be too formal for his first date with Christine. He studied himself in the mirror and began adjusting his tie, when Albus strolled into their room.

“Greg,” Albus said, as if pleasantly surprised to find him in his own room, “How’s my favorite potions partner doing?” 

“Does my hair always look like this?” Greg asked, unable to tear his eyes away from his own reflection. 

“Tonight’s the big date?” Albus plopped down on his bed, and kicked off his shoes, “Too bad it’s just in the dining hall. Hogsmeade would be way more romantic.” 

Greg’s dark eyes skirted towards his classmate, “Not helping the nerves, Albus.” 

“I could help your nerves,” Albus took off his tie and loosened his collar, “if you could do me the smallest little favor.” 

“Oh, how I value our friendship,” Greg said sarcastically, adjusting his bangs. “What do you need?” 

“I heard that you might be in the possession of rabbit livers. If you had one to spare, I would be happy to alleviate your nerves with a little potion I like to call liquid courage.” Albus reached under his bed, and pulled out a half empty bottle of vodka. Greg stumbled toward him. 

“How did you- oh my god,” Greg made a face, “I can’t believe you have this. This is illegal on at least two levels.” 

“One swig, and you’ll stop giving yourself split ends,” Albus’ grey eyes flicked toward Greg’s mused hair, which made him turn his attention back toward the mirror. 

“Uh, alright,” Greg studied himself, “I do have rabbit liver, and yeah, I’ll give you one. Do me a favor, and never tell me what it’s for. Now give me a drink, I guess.” 

Albus held out the bottle, which was filled with lemon water. He found the empty bottle in the trash after a party in the Ravenclaw common room, and he was staking this plan on the powers of the placebo effect. Greg drank straight from the bottle, then wiped his mouth on his sleeve. 

“Wow, you can really hold your alcohol,” Albus commented trying to hide a smirk. 

“’Course I can,” Greg gave himself a little shake and then handed the bottle back. “I’m feeling less jittery already.” 

“I knew it would work,” Albus gave a thumbs up. 

\- - - - - - - - - 

“You swear this will work?” Nate, a 2nd year Gryffindor looked from Albus’ green eyes, to Scorpius’ blue ones. 

“It’s exactly what you’re looking for.” Scorpius promised, as Nate held up the potion bottle and reexamined the liquid. 

“Molly will be sorry she ever dumped you for some stupid fourth year,” Albus unconsciously ran a hand through his hair, anxiously waiting for Nate to accept. 

“And you’re only asking for 10 quid?” 

Albus stood on the balls of his feet, “Yes, it’s a cheap potion to make. Do we have a deal?” 

After a thoughtful moment, Nate nodded and handed over the money, which neither Albus nor Scorpius had any interest in. “I’ll take it. Thanks, man.” 

“No,” Scorpius grinned, exhilarated, “thank you.” 

Their plan was going perfectly. Using Greg’s rabbit liver, they’d brewed a whirlpool potion, and now they’d just sold it to Nate, who would find a way to pour it into his ex-girlfriend’s (And Rose’s roommate’s) dorm. If he was caught, then no points would be taken from Slytherin. The whirlpool could be cleared by magic, but not for at least 5 hours. Giving Scorpius and Albus a small window to sneak into Gryffindor and go through Rose’s things, which would all be kept in the dry common room until the flooding could be fixed. It was perfect, brilliant even, Albus thought. He never could of thought of this alone. Perhaps he and Scorpius were better together. 

\- - - - - - - - - - - 

“Scorpius, if you want to go to potions, I could do this part alone,” Albus spoke up, just as the portrait guarding the Gryffindor common room came into view. Scorpius frowned. 

“Are you kidding? I’m properly invested in this plan now,” Scorpius extended an arm around Albus’ shoulders, and quickly explained, “It’ll look more believeable if I’m helping you walk. Then it’ll make more sense for me to go inside with you.” 

Al nodded and twisted his face, “Let’s go do this.” 

The Fat Lady heard them before she saw them. A loud sob filled the hallways, though many students had a class around this time. Suddenly, she spotted the young Potter boy crying and limping along with a Slytherin she’d never seen before. They made a beeline straight for her. 

“Password?” She asked, stuffily. 

“Madame,” Scorpius spoke over Albus’ cries, “He needs help immediately! You have to let us in!” 

“Take him to the infirmary!” She said, exasperated. He wailed louder. 

“Not that sort of help!” Scorpius spoke impassionately, “You see- he has a broken heart!” 

“I want to see J-James,” Albus felt a real tear slid on his cheek. He was too good at this. 

“Please let us in! It’s an emergency,” Scorpius pleaded like he was on deathrow, “His girlfriend cheated on him! He needs his brother.” Al nodded as meekly as he could. 

The Fat Lady wrung her hands, “Well, I suppose. . . just this once. But never again, boys.” She swung open, and it took all of their acting skills not to skip with excitement into the Gryffindor common room. 

As soon as they were safely inside, they split apart and Albus wiped at his face. 

“I always knew you were overdramatic,” Scorpius was grinning from ear to ear, “but that was true dramatic talent! You’re really a proper actor.” Albus made a beeline for the zebra print trunk. 

“Thanks. I was very impressed by your performance, too. I can’t believe that actually worked. Okay, now help me look through her clothes.” 

“You’re sure this is Rose’s trunk?” for some reason Scorpius couldn’t associate the spitfire girl with zebra print. 

“I’m sure, Gran got all of us a matching set last Christmas,” Albus unlocked the trunk and flung open the top. A mess of fabric greeted him. 

“So, what I’m hearing is you’ve got animal print luggage,” Scorpius’ smile quirked to the side, as Albus started sifting through clothes. 

“That’s-“ Albus searched for the brown, swirling pattern of the cloak, “not relevant to the mission. Just help me look.” 

“Are any of these other bags hers?” Scorpius glanced around, at the various others bags and trunks. 

Albus straightened up and stepped back, “You double search her trunk, and I’ll see if she hid in it someone else’s. She could have an accomplice.” 

Scorpius squatted down and began digging through the fabrics, as Albus decided to start with the bright purple trunk on the far left of the room. 

The portrait opened up. 

Albus’ heart went straight to his throat, while Scorpius’ dropped to the center of the Earth. Both boys spun around, eyes wide, to see who was about to walk in- 

“Albus?” James walked in, with Lysander following closely behind. They both had History of Magic together, but half way through today's lesson, a portrait had interupted to say James was needed in the Gryffindor commonroom. Those painting were the biggest gossips in the school. The professor had allowed James to go, and Lysander insisted he went too. Mostly because he hated the History of Magic. Now in the commonroom, the fourth years looked from Albus’ guilty face, to Scorpius in front of an open trunk. “What are you two looking for?” 

“What are we looking for?” Albus felt his breathing speed up, and willed himself to calm down so he could think, think of something, think of anything to say. 

Scorpius blurted, “Underwear.” 

Lysander's face twisted into disgust, while James’ mouth dropped. 

The next moment Scorpius and Albus had to talk was leaving headmaster McGonagall’s office, after receiving detention for the rest of the year and getting 200 points taken from Slytherin, each. 

“Underwear?!” Albus hissed, “Really? That’s what you thought of!” 

“Sorry, did you want me to say your invisibility cloak, James?” Scorpius shot back, clenching his fists. 

“Obviously not, but you could have said something that wasn’t so gross!” 

“I was trying to sound theoretically believable! But you’re right. I should said, I’m standing in front of an open trunk searching for the snitch from last week’s game. Nope, not in here!” 

Albus shoved his side, “Now the whole school thinks I pimp out my cousin to perverts!” 

“Now the whole school thinks I’m a pervert!” Scorpius snapped his eyes closed, took a deep breath in, and a deep breath out. He opened his eyes. “I’m not going to fight with you. One more wrong move, and I’m off the Quidditch team-“ 

“Oh no, that would surely be worse than the lecture I’m sure to be receiving from every member of my family,” Albus folded his arms and rolls his eyes, “and when we apologized to Rose. Did you see the gleam in her eyes? She totally knew what we were looking for.” 

Scorpius shook his head, “I’m going to go shower. Before detention.” 

“Guess I’ll see you there,” Albus marched away.


	11. Chapter 11

Detention. The worst part of Albus’ day.

Not the worst part of yesterday. No, the worst part of yesterday had definitely been the bloody straight from the depths of Hell Howler, voice provided by his mother. Now, even if there was a Hogwarts student who lived under a rock and wasn’t gossiping about him, everyone was fully aware of his ‘disrespectful, and incredibly indecent behavior’ and ‘the stern consequences waiting for him at home’. 

Today, he sat in the library at 8 o’clock at night, a chair away from Scorpius. The lights were low, but they weren’t here for reading. They each had a giant eraser in hand, and were manually cleaning books. But they were promised a new chore every week, and it was already Friday. The last day of his hand cramping up and over exposer to poorly drawn genital. He reckoned some of these budding young artists had either never even seen their own genital, or were far too creative. 

“I didn’t see you at the Quidditch game today,” Scorpius erased the words ‘blaze it’ from the top of the potions text book page with vengeance. Albus hadn’t thought he would show up at all, since he won the last Quidditch game of the season roughly an hour ago. But it appeared Scorpius wasn’t the type to use his athlete status to his advantage. Though maybe he’d tried. 

“Yeah,” Albus let his eraser plop down on the table. It seemed like they were the only two people here, “If you were within 50 miles of the dining hall last night, you may have heard my Howler. So I’m not exactly eager to see my parents just yet.” 

“I’m glad Slytherin won tonight,” said Scorpius, “I mean, no thanks to me, but still it put my parents in a good mood. They were upset, but they’d never admit that in public. I think my Mom’s convinced it was all your fault, anyway.” 

“They wouldn’t get upset in public?” Albus picked up his eraser and dropped it again, “That’s all my family does in public.” 

“I can’t help but notice you not erasing,” Scorpius paused and blew the eraser dust off his book. Then he flipped the page and started erasing again with vigor. 

Albus put his head in his hands, “I know this is our karma or something, but I think we at least deserve Friday off. Why do you have to be so dedicated to this punishment?” 

“If I have a job assigned to me, I want to do my best,” said Scorpius, slowing his erasing slightly. Albus couldn’t stop a smile. 

“You know, you’re kind of a nerd.” 

His hand froze, textbook penis only halfway gone, “I am not.” 

“A Quidditch star nerd,” Albus straighten up, excited by the concept, “I mean, I knew James was one, but I thought he was a rare breed.” 

“Okay, I think I’d rather be called a nerd than compared to James,” Scorpius mumbled under his breath, but Albus heard him. And laughed. 

They did much more laughing than erasing that night. Detention. Some days, it was the best part of his day. 

Finally, it was the last day of school. Albus was officially done with 2nd year, and done with infinite detention. He still hadn’t gotten back the invisibility cloak, which James remained obliviously to. 

“We’re all going to the beach house in July right?” James walked in-between Rose and Albus, their matching printed trunks trailing behind them. The tall, majestic Hogwarts Express was stopped, awaiting it’s typical flow of students. “I need to let Hanna know the exact dates.” 

“Hanna?” Albus couldn’t believe this, “I thought you were dating Eliza from Ravenclaw?” He’d liked Eliza from Ravenclaw. She always joined in on teasing James. 

“Who knows with James nowadays,” Rose chirped, “He’s become a regular heartbreaker.” 

“Sure, okay, you two cast your judgement upon me,” James rolled his eyes, obviously uncaring, “how’s the view from way up there on your high horse?” 

“Spectacular,” Albus smiled, right before James ruffled his hair in a way he hated. He tried slapping his brother away, which really only egged him on farther. Rose smiled with closed lips and gleaming eyes. The boys continued to playfully wrestle, while more and more students boarded the train home. 

“Albus?” Scorpius’ voice made James and Al split apart, and James narrow the same amount Albus’ widened. 

“What do you want?” James practically spat, taking a protective step in front of Rose. She studied him nose pointed up. 

“I just wanted to, um, talk to Albus for a second.” Scorpius’ feet remained firmly planted on the ground, but his voice seemed to wavier with each syllable. 

James shared a scoff with Albus, “He doesn’t want to talk to you.” 

“No,” Albus blurted, surprising Rose, James, and even himself. “Just- you guys go ahead. I’ll be right behind you.” Shocked beyond speech, his brother and cousin grabbed their luggage and started walking, only pausing to give Scorpius a warning look. 

Albus felt bad. Guilty. Everyone at Hogwarts definitely thought worse of Scorpius after the whole incident, even though it had been Albus’ schemeing that got them into the situation in the first place. If he wasn’t riding on the back of James’ coattails of charisma, he was certain the gossip would be turned on him the same way it was on Scorpius. It didn’t seem fair that Scorpius was the ‘jerk’ the ‘pervert’ the ‘sicko’ and Albus was some accessory to the crime. In some versions, even trying to stop the crime like some sort of defender of Gryffindor luggage. 

After the incident, the only time they ever spent together was Detention. Which was horrible, obviously, it was detention so what else could it be? Certainly not entertaining or fun. That’d be ridiculous. At lunch, Albus had returned to his nomad ways, chatting up a variety of people from every house. Sometimes he returned to Greg and Nina, and Scorpius usually sat with them, if not two of his roommates Nathan and Rodger. But in public he couldn’t . . . conversation just felt different in detention. Easy. 

“I wanted to give you this, before Summer break. I know you told me you hate detective stories, but I really think it’s only because you’ve never read this detective story. It’s called Death On The Nile, and don’t worry, I thoroughly erased it beforehand. No crude drawings.” He smiled, his platinum hair falling a bit over his eyes. It had gotten pretty long. 

Albus took the book, thoughtfully studying the cover. Scorpius could practically see his mind working overdrive. He suddenly looked back at Scorpius, “Do you have a quill on you? You should give me your address. So I could return the book. And thank you. For the book.” 

Scorpius instinctively patted his pocket, finding a ballpoint pen he’d been toying with, “Smart idea. I’ll write it on the cover.” 

“You want to deface a work of literature,” Albus feigned shock, “I never pinned you for one of them.” 

With a grin and a shake of his head, Scorpius took back the book and scribbled down his information, predicting Albus to completely forget about it and never return it at all. Maybe he’d use it as a coaster, or firewood. There was just a small part of Scorpius that clung to the hope that he’d try reading it, even just a chapter. He just wanted to know what Albus would think. 

“There you go.” Scorpius passed back the novel. 

“I’ll see you next year, Scorpius,” and with that, Albus grabbed his luggage and headed toward the train. 

A week had passed. It had only been a measly seven days since Hogwarts, and Scorpius could already feel his sanity slipping away. His father was renovating and expanding the ever growing collection of magic artifacts in the Malfoy Manor. His mother occasionally assisted in pouring over manuscripts, but mostly she gardened or attended the meetings of the several committees she served on, including the Modern Manner Committee, which was dedicated to teaching etiquette to everyone regardless of social class. There were good intentions there, but Scorpius personally couldn’t see the point. Of course, there were family dinners, mostly every day. However, after seven days of critiques and suggestions, he would much rather have eaten his Filet Mignon alone. 

His parents didn’t mention the Rose-luggage-detention incident by name, but it obviously bothered and frustrated them. Heaven forbid anyone say what they actually meant at a Malfoy dinner table. 

He excused himself from the dinner table, pushing in his chair and grabbing his plates to take to the sink. One less job for their house elf, Rommi, to do. He let the silverwear clatter into the already soapy sink, when he noticed the mail on the counter. There was a letter tied to a small package wrapped in brown paper, addressed to Scorpius Malfoy. The handwriting looked familiar. He snatched up the package and the envelope and took the stairs two at a time to his bedroom. 

He sunk onto his plush grey comforter, set down the package, and tore open the letter. It couldn’t be. 

But it was. 

Dear Scorpius Malfoy, 

I’m writing to tell you that I finished the book, however I am not returning it. I’m trying to convince Lily to read it, however anything I like is automatically lame, in case you aren’t versed in the ways of eleven year old baby sisters. If she doesn’t read it, I plan to reread it because (I’m going to regret putting this in print but) you were right. It was an amazing story. So I’m keeping it, but I’ll return it eventually. Just so you don’t stare at an empty spot in your bookshelf and curse my name, I’m sending you a book. It’s not a detective story. When you’re finished and want to return it thanking me for my exquisite taste, my address is on the package. 

Sincerely, Al 

He set down the letter, and immediately ripped open the package. It was a book entitled To Kill A Mockingbird. He’d never read it. But he was about to. 

“James, you’re doing it wrong!” Lily shrieked, ducking to avoid being smacked in the face by the strange brown leather ball. 

“I’m trying to throw it to you!” James jogged toward her, “Remember the rules Dad explained to us.” 

“You’re supposed to throw it between your legs and yell numbers! Like the muggles!” she gave an animated eye roll and started walking to retrieve the ball, “Albus, tell James he’s doing it wrong.” 

“That’s only at the beginning, Lil,” James groaned, while Albus just shook his head. If Lily wasn’t immediately good at something, everyone else was obviously wrong. “Let’s just play Quidditch instead.” 

“No,” Albus kicked at the grass in their wide backyard garden, “Let’s try a different muggle one.” 

“Ooh!” Lily began jumping up and down, the American football lying in a flowerbed forgotten, “I know! Let’s play the game where you can only use your feet!” 

James nodded and went to fetch the football from their shed, “Ally, create a goal out of, something.” 

“We can stick two sticks into the ground and try to kick the ball between them,” Albus suggested, “Or we can turn our garbage bin on its side and try to get the ball inside it.” 

“Let’s use the garbage!” Lily shrieked, energetically racing toward the bin. Suddenly, their dad opened the screen door and walked out on their deck. 

“Albus, you’ve got a letter,” Dad held up an envelope, which Lily and James barely glanced at. James got letters three times a week. Albus knew who the letter must be from, and felt his stomach twist in anticipation. He wasn’t sure if he’d even get a responds. 

“Just- put it in my room, and I’ll read it later,” Albus hurriedly blurted, before returning his attention to his siblings who were already squabbling over who got to start with the ball. 

That night after dinner, Albus returned to his bedroom and found the letter sitting on his pillow. He ripped it open, and rushed to read. 

Dear Al, 

I read To Kill A Mockingbird in one night. I couldn’t put it down. However, I’m holding it ransom until my Agatha Christie novel has been safely returned (I’m joking, in case you couldn’t tell on parchment. Though I’m actually not returning it, because I want to read it a second time. That’s part is not a joke). How’s your summer been? Is that a horrible question? We’ve only been on break for two weeks. It feels much longer, but time slows when you have nothing to do. I supposed I’m not used to free evenings, since we spent so many in detention. I never thought in a million years I would miss doing glorified child labor. Is that weird? My parents still haven’t said anything about what we did, but I think they’re punishing me in their own way. Yesterday over lunch I mentioned to my mom that I was a little bored, and she went ahead and signed me up for classes in a nearby beach town. She didn’t say which classes, which is how I know I won’t like whatever it is. Have I rambled? Should I write up a second draft of this letter? Is this much too long? I suppose I’ll just send this. 

Sincerely, Scorp 

Albus read the letter, then he read it a second time. For good measure, he reread it for a third time. Then he hopped out of bed and into his desk chair, grabbing a quill and a fresh piece of parchment, a keen smile on his face, his dimple showing. 

As the summer days passed, Albus began receiving more and more letters. Eventually, the family took note. 

“You don’t think they’re love letters, do you?” Ginny asked, sipping a cool glass of tea and leaning on their granite counter. Harry stirred the simmering pasta sauce. 

“Love letters? He certainly hasn’t mentioned anything to me,” Harry scratched his chin, “Do you reckon they’re all from the same person?” 

“Albus hasn’t spoke a word of them to me, either,” Ginny frowned in responds to his question. “He’s so private. James won’t stop telling me about all of the dramatic details in his life. Not that I don’t love to hear all about so-and-so’s new girlfriend.” 

“Al’s not a gossiper,” he said proudly, “I’m sure when he wants to tell us about the letters, he will, when he feels ready.” 

“You’re right, of course,” she unclipped her auburn hair, letting it fall freely to her shoulders, “but I wonder if James knows.” 

“If James knew, everyone would know,” Harry chuckled. 

“Are you two talking about me?” James strutted into the kitchen, his hair mused from the flying practice he just came from, “Deciding on a favorite child?” 

“It’s Snitch,” Ginny said, making the fluffy golden retriever’s head lift and ears perk. She patted his head gently. James just grinned and stretched his arms to the celling. 

“When’s dinner?” he asked, the delicious aroma of pasta sauce flooding toward him. 

"Right now,” Harry turned off the stove and reached for the oven mitts, “Do you mind fetching Al and Lily?” 

“Sure, as long as I get two piece of garlic bread,” James gave a thumbs up before hurtling toward the stairs. “Liiiily! Alllly!” Lily poked her head out of her door, and moved toward the stairs, as James stepped passed her and opened Albus’ door himself. 

“Hey,” Albus sounded slightly started, twisting to see his brother from his desk. 

“Dinner’s ready,” said James, leaning against his door frame. His eyes locked onto the parchment Al was in the middle of writing on, and his interest was peaked, “You’re writing another letter? What is that, your millionth one this month?” 

“It’s not a big deal,” Albus shoved the parchment to the side and stood, “Let’s go eat.” 

“Who are you writing to? Your girlfriend?” James smirked, not letting Albus past him. Though the younger boy had definitely had a growth spurt, he was still only 5”8 and James had at least 5 inches on him. 

“No,” Albus rolled his eyes, “I’m writing to Scorpius.” 

James’ smile was gone in a flash, “What? Why? Is he bothering you?” 

“No,” Albus said again, much more adamantly, “We’re just, writing letters to each other. I thought you said dinner was ready?” 

“I don’t think you should talk to that creep,” James appetite was suddenly gone, “He’s a bad influence on you.” 

“Thanks for your opinion,” Albus was getting impatient, “But he’s my friend.” 

“What?” James suddenly felt like he didn’t know his brother at all, “Since when?” 

“Alllllbus! James!” Lily’s voice cut through the air, “Get your butts down here!” 

James automatically stepped aside, and Albus hurried past him and toward the stairs. James followed, completely caught off guard. He thought Albus knew what a jerk Scorpius was, and after the whole mess with Rose’s luggage, what a perverted jerk. He didn’t want Ally hanging around the wrong sort of people, getting mixed up in more schemes. 

He could fix this. 

"Today, Hugo bet his owl, Morty, was faster than Snitch, so I have to take Snitch to their house tomorrow! I know Snitch will win. And, Hugo said if Snitch wins I get to give him a haircut!” 

“Do I want to know what happens if Morty wins?” Ginny grimaced. 

“Well, he won’t!” Lily grinned confidently, pasta sauce staining her lips. “And Rose said when we go to the beach, she’s gonna teach me how to boogie board. And she said she’s better than Albus.” 

“Lies and slander,” Albus interjected, “I can teach you how to boogie board, Lil. I’m the one who taught Rose everything she knows.” 

“We’ll have to get you your own board,” Harry smiled at his daughter, who took a bite of her garlic bread. 

“What were you up to today, Al?” Ginny asked, “Read any other good books?” Before Al could respond, James spoke up. 

“He was writing another letter. And he’s been writing to Scorpius.” 

Lily continued to munch, while Ginny and Harry couldn’t hide their surprise. And not a good surprise. 

“Yeah, so?” Albus shot, internally scrambling for a better comeback, “Who made you letter police?” 

“Mom, Dad,” James turned to them, “Albus should not be getting all buddy buddy with Scorpius. Malfoy. He’s- he’s a terrible influence!” 

“You just hate him because Slytherin beat you at Quidditch,” Albus raised his right eyebrow. James whipped his gaze to his brother. 

“What? That has nothing to do with him bullying you, and then dragging you into his twisted issues.” 

“Maybe James has a point,” Harry started. 

“Yes,” James cheered, while Albus’ began to protest. 

“No he doesn’t! Scorpius is my friend, and he’s a good person. A great person. James doesn’t even know him!” 

“Guys, talk some sense into Ally. Am I the only one at this table who remembers Scorpius, alleged ‘great person’, stealing Rose’s stuff to go jerk off to?” 

“James!” Harry reprimanded. 

“That is not how we talk in this house,” Ginny glared at her eldest. 

James held his arms open, “Okay, sorry, but it’s reality! And that’s the kid Ally has been sending notes to all summer long?!” 

“Al,” Harry kindly placed a hand on his son’s shoulder, “I trust you, and your judgement, but I trust your brother as well. I don’t want anyone taking advantage of your forgiving nature. That’s how people can get hurt-“ 

“Nobody is taking advantage of me!” Albus shrugged off Harry’s hand. “And I won’t get hurt.” 

“I’d like to take this time to remind us all of when Scorpius Malfoy literally gave you a black eye,” James leaned back in his chair, folding his arms. 

Lily gasped with concern, “He beat you up?” 

Albus put a hand on his head, “We were just messing around. I was a dumb first year-“ 

“Hey!” Lily glared in his direction. 

“-and we’ve both changed.” Albus was getting more and more frustrated. Ginny decided to step in. 

“Rose accepted their apology. Albus washed dishes all of June, and I think he’s truly learned his lesson. Even if Scorpius is a bad influence, perhaps Al can be a good influence on him. Now, why don’t we try a new topic. Is everyone getting packed for the beach?” 

The family accepted the change in conversation, which quickly morphed into a debate over how much S’mores material two families could really go through.


End file.
